


Scarred

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:25:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan discovers Toki’s secret past.<br/>I’m going to try writing with flashbacks here, never done that before. <i>All flashback scenes will be in italics.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarred

They all thought it was because of the scars on his back.  
He’d take his shirt off, but never pulled his hair back or put it up, always left it hanging loose no matter how hot it was or what he was doing. It was so long that it hid or at least disguised the marks that they all knew were there.  
Sometimes they talked about it when he wasn’t around. The scars looked old, it must have been his parents that did that to him. That was really messed up, no wonder he never said anything about it.  
They didn’t ask though, nobody wanted to be accused of caring. That shit wasn’t metal.

But it wasn’t about the old whip scars, he really didn’t give a damn about those. He’d come to terms with them years ago, didn’t even think about them anymore.  
No, there were things they didn’t know about him, things he never wanted them to find out. Knowledge that could destroy everything he had here, everything he’d worked for, all in an instant.   
If only they knew.  
He was as careful as he could be, yet that potential end was always there, waiting in the shadows.  
It was his other, secret scar that he lived in terror of them discovering.

****  
***  
**  
*

Nathan was in one of his rare playful moods, the active kind. When everyone else had been worn out or fled the room, Toki had unknowingly walked in and gotten pounced on. Nathan grabbed him, trying to wrestle him down.  
He felt Nathan’s hand slip around his neck, _under_ his hair, and froze in horror.  
Nathan froze as well, his fingers already knowing the truth his mind was reluctant to accept.  
Feeling like his whole world was collapsing, Toki pulled free and ran to his room.   
Nathan knew.   
Now they would all know. They wouldn’t want him anymore, or at the very least treat him even worst than they already did.

After all these years, it might already be over. He didn’t think he could stand it, if this were so.  
Alone is his room, Toki lay on his bed thinking about the past.   
Answering that ad had been the opportunity of a lifetime, in more ways than one. He could never regret that, he wouldn’t be where he was now without it.  
It bothered him though, that he was now ashamed of something he’d been so proud of at the time.  
He’d been nothing, just another unemployed immigrant with poor English and no future, in a city that was full of them.   
And then he’d just happened to see that ad...

 

_There were so many people, too many. several hundred of them at least, all ages, sizes, and sexes. All had been required to sign some paper, and had been searched for any possible weapons. Packed into the huge room, they listened to the man in the suit and glasses explain the rules. The he had made the surprising request: “Now pair off and fight to the death with your bare hands.”  
There was a moment of shocked silence, then the fighting started. He’d been hit before he’d even had a chance to fully absorb what was at stake here, some guy probably twice his age.  
He’d killed his first man that night._

_The survivors, battered and bloodies, lined up to receive the mark of their servitude. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming, the silence in which each received the brand was surreal.  
At last it was his turn. Holding his hair up as instructed, he felt the searing heat touch his neck, sinking in. The deep sense of accomplishment and the pain fought for the upper hand, but he remained silent and endured.  
Rising and moving on, he was given his number and recorded. Further down the line, a brief interview had given him his assignment._

 

There was a knock, and Nathan stuck his head in. He still looked pretty confused, but there he was.  
Surrendering to the inevitable, Toki motioned for him to enter.  
Nathan sat on the edge of the bed. “So uh, can I see it?”   
With a sigh, Toki sat up, allowing Nathan to lift his hair aside. He felt fingers tracing the familiar shape.  
Curiosity satisfied, Nathan straightened. “So that’s where you came from. I um, never knew.”  
“I didn’ts wants any of you to ever knows. I works with you a long times, I don’t wants to be treated that ways again.”  
“What do you mean you worked with us? Like, you know, actually _with_ us?  
“Remembers when Skwisgaar lost his guitar tech?”  
“Yeah- Oh shit, that was you?”

Toki nodded. He could tell that Nathan was unsuccessfully trying to remember anything but just another hood guy. It was only Skwisgaar’s reaction that he could recall.  
“What was your number?”  
That was all history now, he didn’t want to discuss it. “I don’ts has a number no more.”  
“Yeah I know. But what was it?” Nathan could be annoyingly persistent.  
Seeing no way around it, he answered, “167.”  
“Whoa. That’s like, the first batch. You were really here from the beginning? Then how the hell did you even manage to try out? And you weren’t wearing a uniform then...”

 

_He had been careful to obey all the rules. He kept his hood on at all times when he was in sight of anyone at all, even his fellow gears. He defended the band when needed, killing those who threatened them.  
Even working so closely with the masters themselves, he remained all but invisible. A presence in the background, tending to their needs.   
From his hood he watched them for years, and obeyed the rules.  
Well, all the rules except one._

_Ofdensen had caught him.  
He was supposed to just take care of Skwisgaar’s guitars, keep them tuned and that sort of thing. Not play them, never that. But he hadn’t been able to resist, his Lord was his idol whose moves and techniques he had studied for years. Always from the sidelines, watching from the anonymity of his hood.  
He would play only when he was sure he could get away with it, copying Skwisgaar’s style the best he could.  
And then he’d gotten caught.   
And to his surprise, commanded to try out. Auditions had been going on for a week, there was only one day left._

_He had gone to the audition, feeling like an imposter without his uniform. Feeling unworthy to stand unmasked before his Lords. These men he knew so well, that treated him like a stranger.  
But only until he played.  
All his years of studying Skwisgaar had paid off, and he was very good now.   
They had been impressed, and to his surprise he’d been chosen.   
It was so awkward at first, he’d had to be careful not to slip and call them “my Lords” as he had done for years. It was so strange when his former colleges called HIM that now._

 

“Ofdensen caught me playings, I used to does that even though I wasn’ts supposed to. He tells me to go to the try outs, and to wears other clothes.” Toki gave a bitter laugh. “He tells me he knows he can trust me because you all already owns me.”  
“Toki, we don’t... Well I guess we do. Did. Uh, do we still?”  
“Noes, he makes some papers for that. He makes me nots a gear and gives me my name back, then makes me Dethklok.”  
“Oh okay. Beacuse... yeah. We don’t own you. Man, Skwisgaar was pissed, wasn’t he?”  
“Ja he was.”

 

_Skwisgaar had thrown a fit at being given a new guitar tech. “I demands you be gettings me mine tech! Dat guy I always has!”  
The manager had tried to explain, while respecting Toki’s desire to not be revealed. “I’m sorry Skwisgaar, but we lost him. You’ll just have to make due with 1721, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”  
“Dis ams dildos.”  
But in a week or so, he’d forgotten the change. The hood guys were pretty much interchangeable anyway, in his mind._

_The paranoia had started then, right from the very beginning. If only he’d been open about it... but every passing day made it far too late, he could never tell.  
He avoided the wrestling games, afraid that someone would touch it, that someone might pull his hair aside and reveal it.  
That a groupie would put her hands around his neck.  
They all though he was just weird.  
Headbanging was safe though, because they all did it together. Which meant nobody could take the time to study him too closely. Besides, between his shirt and the guitar strap, it probably wasn’t all that visible then anyway._

 

Nathan reached out, then seemed to realize what his arm was doing and pulled it back. “Sorry.”  
“Oh go aheads and touch it if you wants to.” It didn’t matter now, now that he knew.  
“Okay.” He did, running his fingers across the brand, tracing it. “It’s so smooth.”   
Toki shrugged. So what? The novelty had worn off years ago. “You’s going to tells everybody?”  
“Aw Toki, they won’t care. You really think we’d treat you different?”  
“Maybe not Pickle, but Skwisgaar woulds and Murderface woulds too. You knows it.”  
“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”

“Don’ts tell? Please Nathan?”  
“Okay. If it really bothers you, I won’t. Uh, why’s it bother you?”  
“If you don’ts understands, then I can’t explains it to you.”  
There had been something on tv...”Why don’t you like, get it removed then? If it you don’t like it now?”  
“You thinks I hasn’t looked into that? They tells me it probably wouldn’t look any better if they tries, probably evens worse. So I just keeps it.”

“Toki?”  
He sighed. “What?”  
“I think that’s really brutal. You should like, be proud of it.” He couldn’t even imagine getting branded like that. That shit had to really _hurt_. Nathan got up and wandered out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  
Nathan thought it was brutal. Nathan wasn’t going to tell.  
Maybe everything was still okay.


End file.
